Introduction
If you've completed the Discipleship Study on this site, you were introduced to the Book of Revelation in Module 7 – The Apocalyptic Category of Redemptive History. In that module, we explored the background of Revelation and the various ways it has been interpreted throughout history. In this section, I'll provide a brief introductory overview. For a deeper dive into the material, I encourage you to explore the additional studies by clicking here.
Introduction: Revelation is Consistent with a Jewish Worldview
The book of Revelation has long been cloaked in mystery and intrigue, captivating our imagination for centuries with its vivid symbolism and complex imagery. Many believe it holds the key to understanding the future, while others suggest that its true meaning is hidden, only accessible through secret knowledge. This book might be the most misunderstood work of the New Testament—especially by Gentiles throughout history. The range of interpretations is staggering, almost like the distance between continents across the Atlantic Ocean. While this sense of mystery contributes to its enduring appeal, much of the confusion surrounding Revelation stems from modern Christianity's detachment from the Jewish foundations of the faith.
What we’re really focusing on is Revelation chapters 6 through 18. Chapters 1 through 5 don’t spark much debate, and chapters 19 through 22 are generally straightforward—Jesus returns, the Kingdom comes, and that’s that. But chapters 6 through 18 have sparked centuries of debate. That’s what we want to spend time on: tracing the main approaches in history and considering how Jews in the first century would have understood it.
For many of us, Revelation has been framed by modern American contexts—like the “Left Behind” series, Hal Lindsey’s The Late Great Planet Earth, or even more symbolic readings that reduce it to a cosmic struggle between good and evil. But today we want to step back and look at the larger picture: how this book has been interpreted across history.
And of course, we have to begin with the original context. Revelation, perhaps more than any other New Testament writing, demands to be read through a first-century Jewish apocalyptic lens. Without that, the book easily drifts into bizarre and speculative interpretations. Its strange symbols and visions only make sense when rooted in Jewish apocalyptic expectation. From that standpoint, much of Revelation 6–18 can be seen as a retelling—or recapitulation—of the “messianic woes”: the time of tribulation expected before the Messiah’s coming.
To fully understand the Bible, especially Revelation, we must approach it through the lens of its original authors—first-century Jews. This website continually emphasizes that any biblical text is best understood when read in its proper context. While the New Testament provides some understanding, many concepts in its pages were never formally introduced because the authors assumed their audience already grasped them. How do we recover that lost understanding? The answer lies in historical studies—particularly, by examining what first-century Jews believed and how they would have interpreted these texts.
We have frequently argued that the Jewish worldview was deeply apocalyptic. Their understanding of redemptive history was shaped by integrating the Torah, prophetic writings, and poetic texts into a grand narrative with overarching themes. They believed that God created the heavens and the earth, with the heavens being both physical and plural, where God rules from the highest point. God gave Adam dominion over the earth, but sin and moral autonomy led to a fallen world. The prophetic writings emphasized a future "Day of the LORD," when God would restore creation, ushering in a new heaven and earth, purging all wickedness, and reigning from Zion. This "Day of the LORD" would be carried out by the Messiah, a descendant of Adam, David, and Joseph. Before this event, sin would peak under the reign of the Antichrist in a period of intense evil lasting 3.5 years, as described in Daniel.
By the time Revelation was written, the Jewish narrative had not changed. However, modern Christianity often portrays Jesus as a revolutionist who altered everything, rather than a revivalist who upheld this grand narrative. If we see Jesus as fundamentally changing the story, it alters how we interpret the New Testament as a whole.
Apocalyptic Literature
Revelation is part of Jewish apocalyptic literature. The word "apocalypse" means "unveiling," and according to Dr. Eli Lizorkin-Eyzenberg, if one fails to see the message of hope in Revelation, they are reading it incorrectly. The book was meant to clarify, not obscure, and should be read as a whole to understand the larger narrative. Like other New Testament writings, Revelation draws heavily on preexisting Jewish ideas, merging established Jewish concepts in a unique way rather than introducing entirely new themes.
John’s Exile and the Voices in Revelation
John, the author of Revelation, identifies himself as a fellow believer enduring tribulation for the sake of his testimony of Jesus Christ. He writes from the island of Patmos, where he was likely exiled by Roman authorities due to his teachings. This exile serves as the backdrop for his visions. Throughout the Book of Revelation, multiple voices alternate, including God, Jesus, the Spirit, angels, and the Bride, creating a rich polyphony of heavenly sound. This chorus of voices demands careful attention from readers, as the message is delivered in a highly symbolic and layered form.
A Message Rooted in Jewish Apocalyptic Thought
Revelation is deeply rooted in the Jewish apocalyptic tradition, drawing from longstanding ideas that were central to first-century Jewish beliefs. Jews of the time understood the world through a dual reality—earthly tribulations and divine reign in the heavenly realm. Apocalyptic literature, such as Revelation, often speaks to these multiple realities, emphasizing the past, present, and future. The prophetic visions in Revelation echo the same themes found in earlier Jewish texts: a coming Day of the Lord when God will judge the earth, destroy wickedness, and establish His eternal kingdom through the Messiah.
Perseverance Through Tribulation and the Coming Kingdom
A key theme throughout Revelation is the need for perseverance during tribulation. John stresses the dual reality faced by Christ-followers—living in a world of trials while also partaking in the kingdom of God. He encourages believers to endure because, though suffering is part of the current age, it will ultimately give way to the coming age when God will fully restore creation. This message is reinforced by the structure of Revelation itself, which consistently returns to the hope of God's ultimate victory, urging readers to hold on through the trials they face.
The Messianic Woes and Echoes of Daniel’s Vision
Revelation closely mirrors the apocalyptic prophecies found in the Book of Daniel, especially the concept of the "Messianic Woes," a period of great tribulation that precedes the arrival of the Messiah. In both Daniel and Revelation, this period lasts 3.5 years, symbolized by a time, times, and half a time. During this tribulation, evil reaches its peak under the reign of the Antichrist, who opposes God and persecutes the saints. The Messianic Woes are a recurring theme in Jewish apocalyptic literature, which describes a period of cosmic and societal upheaval before the final restoration. John's vision draws heavily on these concepts, positioning the saints' perseverance and martyrdom as pivotal in the unfolding of God's plan.
Revelation as a Letter to Early Christian Assemblies
Though Revelation is often seen through the lens of prophecy, it is, at its core, a letter addressed to real people in the first-century Christian assemblies of Asia Minor. These early believers were facing persecution under Roman rule, and John’s message speaks directly to their struggles, offering both rebuke and encouragement. By understanding the historical context and the specific challenges these early Christ-followers endured, modern readers can better grasp the book's original intent. The letter format reminds us that Revelation was not just meant for abstract theological reflection but was designed to provide guidance and hope to communities enduring real oppression.
Symbolism, Numbers, and Jewish Tradition
The Book of Revelation is filled with symbolic language, numbers, and imagery, much of which draws on Jewish traditions. The number seven, for instance, is used repeatedly throughout the text—representing completeness and perfection in Jewish thought. Revelation is structured around this symbolic number, with seven churches, seven seals, seven trumpets, and seven bowls. The language also employs Jewish numerology, such as the famous "666," which is linked to the name Nero Caesar through a numerical code called gematria. Such symbolism would have been understood by the original audience but requires careful study for modern readers.
Prophecy and Hope: Addressing Both Past and Future Events
Although Revelation addresses real events and struggles faced by first-century believers, its prophetic nature also speaks to future events. John’s visions contain warnings about the imminent judgment of the wicked, as well as the promise of ultimate restoration for those who remain faithful to God. The book blends apocalyptic imagery with prophecy, drawing on the rich tradition of Jewish eschatological thought. The "Day of the Lord" is presented as a future event that will divide redemptive history, bringing both judgment and the renewal of creation. The readers are called to understand this not merely as a prediction of distant events but as a call to faithful action in their present lives.
Faithfulness, Martyrdom, and God’s Ultimate Plan
One of the most sobering themes in Revelation is the call to embrace martyrdom as an expression of ultimate faithfulness to God. The martyrs in Revelation are depicted as having conquered not through physical power but through their steadfast testimony and willingness to suffer, even unto death. The culmination of martyrdom is not defeat but victory, as God’s judgment against evil is often linked to the fullness of martyrdom. John’s vision highlights the fact that believers must be prepared to suffer, but this suffering will lead to eternal glory. Revelation frames martyrdom as the ultimate act of discipleship, following the example of Christ, who conquered through his own sacrificial death.
Historical Interpretation of Revelation
In this section, our goal is to lay out the basic framework of interpretation—how the Book of Revelation has been understood throughout history. For a long time, the millennium was treated as the key to unlocking the book, shaping entire systems of prophecy. But that’s no longer the case. Modern interpretations don’t really fit into the old threefold categories of premillennial, postmillennial, or amillennial. Instead, most are some blend of inaugurated eschatology. So rather than relying on outdated frameworks, we’re going to approach this from a different angle.
We’ll trace four major approaches to the book, following a kind of chronological order. We’ll start with how Revelation was understood in the first and second centuries by Jews and early church fathers, and then move forward through history to modern interpretations.
Futurism
The first approach we want to talk about is futurism. In the simplest terms, futurism sees everything from Revelation 4:1 onward as yet to be fulfilled. This perspective actually aligns closely with the first-century Jewish expectation: if you had asked a Jew in that time whether things would get better or worse before the Messiah came, they would have said worse. They expected an anti-Messiah figure, a desecrated Temple, and the persecution of God’s people.
That same expectation carried into the early church. Writers like Papias, Justin Martyr, and Irenaeus interpreted Revelation through a fundamentally futuristic lens. While we might not place them squarely inside the Jewish apocalyptic tradition, their futurism clearly grew out of that worldview.
Today, there really is a shift away from a futurist perspective—a different perspective than the first-century Jewish apocalyptic view. If you’ve listened to modern teachers—especially preterists like N.T. Wright and others—they’ll often claim in passing that “futurism didn’t exist until the 19th century.” But what they really mean is that dispensationalism didn’t exist until the 19th century. And that’s true. Dispensationalism is a 19th-century development. But to collapse all futurism into dispensationalism, and then pretend nothing else existed before that—it’s just dishonest.
And it’s strange to see how often that gets repeated. Even now, guys like Phil Vischer are picking it up and pushing it as if it’s just common knowledge. The reality is that futurism has been present throughout church history. Sure, it became less common after the 4th and 5th centuries and through much of the Middle Ages, though you still see it in some monastic groups. During the Reformation, it shows up again among the Anabaptists, Huguenots, Bohemian Brethren, and especially the English Puritans. Later, the German Pietists also carried it forward. Then, in the 19th century, you had a resurgence of futurism in the form of dispensationalism, which took root in England and spread to America.
Now, dispensationalism has largely faded, but futurism hasn’t disappeared. Instead, most of modern evangelicalism—especially following George Ladd—embraces a blended approach. It’s a kind of “already/not yet” framework, mixing elements of preterism with futurism. That’s probably the closest thing to a consensus among evangelical scholars today.
So with that in mind, let’s move on to the next major approach: Idealism.
Idealism
If we’re laying these out chronologically, the early centuries—first and second—were dominated by a futurist reading: Revelation was seen as describing events still to come. Idealism, on the other hand, takes a very different route. Idealism views Revelation as symbolic, not about actual future events or God’s covenantal purposes in history, but simply as a broad allegory of the struggle between good and evil.
This view really gained traction in the Augustinian and Constantinian era, around the 4th and 5th centuries, and carried into the Middle Ages. And you can see in their writings that many of these theologians were reacting to the futurist consensus that came before them.
In one sense, idealism reflects a kind of “loss of heart” in waiting for the kingdom. But at the same time, you can understand it. The circumstances had shifted. Once the church was no longer facing intense persecution, the apocalyptic worldview was harder to sustain. Apocalyptic literature usually arises in contexts of marginalization and suffering, so when the church became socially dominant, it was easier for people to spiritualize Revelation rather than expect it to play out literally in history.
When you get into this period, you see Clement and Origen—especially from Alexandria—taking a strongly allegorical approach. That school already had a tendency to spiritualize everything, so it’s no surprise that Revelation was read that way as well. But Augustine is really the central figure when it comes to the rise of idealism, largely because of his later influence. Some argue that Origen shaped Augustine, and you can definitely see connections.
Interestingly, Augustine at one point did entertain a futurist view. But certain aspects of Revelation didn’t sit well with him—especially the imagery of the messianic banquet, which he thought was too carnal. So he shifted his approach. For him, the first resurrection wasn’t a literal future event but a spiritual one—the rebirth of souls. Likewise, the binding of Satan wasn’t something to come, but rather a description of the ongoing cosmic struggle between good and evil in the present age.
One of his clearest statements comes from his interpretation of Revelation 20, where thrones are set up and judgment is given. Augustine said those thrones represented the seats of authority by which the Church is governed now. So in his view, the whole book is essentially an allegory of the Church age, encouraging believers to recognize the spiritual battle happening in the present. It’s similar to preterism in that it rejects a future fulfillment, though unlike later preterists, Augustine didn’t tie it specifically to AD 70.
Clement and Origen, for their part, were working out of a more Hellenistic, Platonic worldview—the idea that the material world is corrupt and the ultimate hope is escape to the immaterial. So for them, Revelation was basically a grand parable about the struggle between flesh and spirit, material and immaterial, culminating in a heavenly destiny in Revelation 21–22. Augustine marks a shift from that: he still allegorizes, but he sees a kind of historical fulfillment within the life of the Church rather than only in some immaterial realm.
That said, idealism never disappears. It flavors interpretation throughout Church history and even into today. Many modern commentators—Greg Beale, Craig Keener, Grant Osborne—blend futurism, preterism, and idealism at different points in their commentaries. Idealism remains a major framework for how Revelation is read.
So to summarize: the first and early second centuries leaned heavily on futurism. By the third and fourth centuries, idealism emerged and dominated through the early Middle Ages. Then we get a third approach: historicism.
Historicism views Revelation not just as a generic battle between good and evil, but as a series of fulfillments across Church history between Christ’s first and second coming. For example, some Franciscan monks adapted it this way, and later during the Reformation, historicism exploded in popularity. Reformers famously identified the papacy itself as the Antichrist—reading Revelation as a roadmap of Church history and corruption.
Of course, historicism has almost entirely faded today. Unlike futurism or idealism, you won’t find much of it outside of a few small pockets. But in its time, especially during the Reformation, it was massive.